


Shattered Glass

by Misskiku



Series: Bederia Goodness [24]
Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Angst, Dancing, F/M, Fluff, bede has no time for toxic masculinity, bederia week 2021
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29644527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misskiku/pseuds/Misskiku
Summary: Bederia Week 2021: Day 2 - First DateThe League Gala is approaching and Gloria doesn't know how to dance. With one week left to go, she has no option but to go to someone for lessons who wouldn't leak her circumstances and inability to dance to the press - Bede.What could go wrong?
Relationships: Beet | Bede/Yuuri | Gloria
Series: Bederia Goodness [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630534
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43
Collections: Bederia Week 2021





	Shattered Glass

Gloria curled her legs beneath her on the wooden chair, holding the steaming mug of tea close for warmth. Spring had finally come to Galar, but the spacious Pokemon Lab in Wedgehurst carried a lingering chill in the air. That was probably part of the reason why Hop always wore his lab coat. Otherwise, it was the sense of pride and achievement that drove him to don it day after day- he wore it with his head high, sitting across from Gloria at the dining table nestled by the entrance to the lab. She couldn't begin to feel cold, or worry about it, with bigger things on her mind. 

"What am I going to do, Hop?" she sighed. "The Gala is _next week._ "

He sipped at his coffee, unperturbed. "So? Do what you did last year- if you get asked to dance, turn them down. Simple." 

"It's not simple. I got away with that last time because it was my first year as Champion. This time, I'm expected to socialise- and that means dancing. If I decline everyone who asks me, it'll be a serious… what's the word? Faux pas?"

Hop's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Never thought you'd care about social expectations. Especially when it comes to rich, snobby expectations." 

She stopped herself from rolling her eyes. "You don't understand- I'm the Champion. I have to care about these things now, I don't have a choice. It's either conform to their rules, or get eaten alive by the rich, snobby people and journalists alike. Also, those 'rich, snobby people' are the ones sponsoring the League. I _have_ to appeal to them."

Which meant dancing. Dancing and socialising with people who wouldn't have glanced at her twice if she wasn't the Champion.

"I see your problem." Hop nodded slowly. "Guess I'm lucky that no one will be paying any attention to me. No one's going to ask the Pokemon Professor's assistant to dance." 

"You'll have to dance with me at least once," she said. "But you're right. It's me they'll be looking at, not you." 

Gloria sighed again. She stared down at her tea, the churning in her stomach sucking away her desire to drink it.

"A week." She drummed her fingers against the ceramic mug, anxiously tapping away. "How am I going to learn to dance in a week?" 

"A better question is who's going to teach you," Hop said. 

"Who'll be willing to teach me and keep their mouth shut," Gloria added with a huff. "The last thing I want is an instructor blabbing to journalists about my inability to dance." 

"What if you didn't go to an official instructor?" Hop asked. "What if, instead, you went to someone who knew how to dance themselves and could teach you? Someone we know isn't going to sell you out to the press." 

"You know someone like that?" 

He smiled. "We both do." 

There was something about the twinkle in his eyes that unsettled her, something suspicious. 

"Who?" Gloria asked. 

"Bede." 

She blinked at him. "Bede?" 

Hop nodded, smile widening. "He's part of the Ballonlea Theatre- there's a lot of dancing in those plays. He's probably been taught to dance since he became the Fairy Gym Leader, and I bet he'd be willing to teach you." 

She pursed her lips at that idea. Hop was right- most likely, Bede already knew how to dance. She couldn't remember much from the first League Gala she'd attended, it was all so much of a blur, of faces and names she couldn't remember, dazzled by the luxurious hall, the music, the food, the lights. She'd been swept away by the whole experience. She hadn't paid attention to anyone she knew save for Hop, who she'd managed to persuade to come as her date. 

"Maybe…" she said, mulling it over. 

"Maybe?" Hop gave her an unimpressed look. "You've got a week to learn how to dance well enough to fit in with people who've had years of practice. Who else is going to be willing to teach you on such short notice?" 

Gloria grumbled in her throat. "I know, but…" 

"But?" 

How could she explain what she was feeling when even she didn't know herself? The jumble of emotions inside her was confusing enough without having to voice it to someone else. 

"I guess you're right," she sighed. She had to face the facts one way or another. "I don't really have any other options, do I?" 

"Not since you left it so late, you don't," Hop said. He nodded to her pointedly. "Come on, call him." 

She blinked. "Now?"

"Yes, now! The sooner, the better!" 

It was too soon, too sudden, and her heart began to race in her chest. She froze for a second until Hop's stare spurred her to move, and she dug out her phone with fumbling fingers. 

"Fine, fine. I'll call him," she huffed and clicked through her contacts for Bede's number. 

Hop stood from his chair and hurried around the table and into the seat beside her. He grinned, leaning close. 

"What are you doing?" Gloria leant away from him, discomforted by the delight on his face. Her thumb hovered over Bede's number. 

"It was my idea," Hop said. 

Gloria frowned. "That doesn't mean you get to eavesdrop." 

"You're stalling," he said, and jabbed at her phone. His finger tapped the screen, tapped Bede's number, calling him. 

"Hey!" She balked. She scoffed at Hop, a beat of panic rising in her chest, before she decided enough was enough. 

It was time to bite the bullet. 

Gloria swallowed her grumble and held her phone to her ear, sending a sharp look at Hop as he leant close again. 

_Whatever,_ she thought, slightly disgruntled. _He can listen if he wants._

The ringing of her phone stopped, and Bede's smooth voice sounded into her ear. 

"Morning, Gloria," he said. "I trust you're not calling because you've gotten yourself into another predicament so soon?" 

His voice carried a hint of amusement, and already Gloria felt her cheeks begin to warm. Hearing his voice so close, as if he was speaking right into her ear, had a strange affect on her. 

"That depends on what you mean by predicament," she said. 

She curled a lock of her hair around her finger absently as she spoke. The way her heart fluttered in her chest, she needed something to do with her free hand to calm her nerves. She glanced at Hop. He nodded at her, raising his eyebrows expectantly. 

"Well, you know how the Gala is next week," Gloria began. "I was wondering if… by any chance you knew how to dance?" 

"Of course I do. Who do you think you're asking?" Bede replied. 

Hop rolled his eyes. Gloria sent him a hard look in return. Talking to Bede on the phone was difficult enough with her nerves on overdrive, she didn't need Hop's play-by-play reactions to everything. She resisted the urge to swat at him. 

"That's what I was hoping," she said with a sheepish laugh, "see, I don't actually know how to dance. At all." A pause. "Would you be able to teach me?" 

Gloria's cheeks burned as she forced that question out. It felt like it had taken all the air in her lungs just to ask, leaving her lightheaded and giddy. Anticipation seized her heart as a second of silence passed. 

"I suppose I could clear up my schedule for you," Bede said. "Teaching you to dance sounds like it would be amusing, if not a decent way to pass the time. I can hardly leave you to stumble on the dance floor at the Gala and risk you denting the reputation of the League, can I?" 

Gloria held her phone tighter. "Does that mean you'll teach me…?" 

"I will," he said. "How does tomorrow morning sound? You've only got a week to learn, and I'd rather we start sooner than later. Although, with me as your teacher, I'll have you mastering the steps within a day or two, just you wait." 

She turned her mind to tomorrow morning, quickly working through any plans she might have made. 

"Tomorrow works for me," she said, nodding even though Bede couldn't see it. "I can come by the Gym at, say, nine o'clock?" 

That'd give her enough time to wake up and prepare herself for the inevitable embarrassment she'd face in front of Bede. Although he's not one to make fun of her, she'd never danced in her life. 

She heard the smile in Bede's voice when he replied. "It's a date," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow." 

"Okay!" Heart pounding, it came out as a squeak. "See you!" 

A click sounded as Bede hung up, deafened by the drumming of her heart in her chest and the surging of blood between her ears. 

_A date._

She couldn't think. His words echoed in her mind. 

_It's a date._

It was when Gloria pulled her phone away from her ear, cheeks flushed, still feeling giddy and breathless, that she noticed the look Hop was giving her. He grinned from ear to ear, amusement twinkling in his eyes. 

"What?" she asked, feeling her heart skip.

"Your first date with Bede, huh?" Hop said, smirking. "I knew it was going to happen eventually, but-" 

"It's not a date!" She cut him off as she flushed darker. Heat rose up her neck to pool across her face, embarrassment and indignation burning to the tips of her ears. 

"He literally said, 'it's a date,' Gloria. It doesn't get more obvious than that," Hop said. 

"It's just a phrase!" She folded her arms, meeting his smirk with a frustrated glare. "It doesn't mean anything- he doesn't like me like that, anyway!" 

"Says who?"

"Says me!" 

Hop raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that? Enough to bet on it?" 

"Of course I'm sure!" Gloria huffed again. "Bede's not interested in someone like me." 

_That's right._ The memory hit her square in the chest, winding her. A chill spread through her body, through her heart, as though she'd swallowed a block of ice. _His type is someone so different to me,_ she remembered. _The person Bede likes is…_

_Who?_

Her stomach sank. She didn't want to think about that, about the person he'd described to her. Honest and diligent, the one Bede had spoken about seemed so far away from her, and she didn't know why it bothered her so much. 

She didn't know why it bothered her at all. 

_Was there someone Bede would rather spend his time with?_

"Ten thousand Poké," Hop said. He still wore his ridiculous grin, still taunting her. "I bet you ten thousand Poké that Bede has a crush on you." 

Gloria frowned. The thought made her feel ill. "I don't want to bet on that," she said. 

"Why? 'Cause you know I'm right?" 

"Because I know you're wrong!" she huffed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "He already likes someone, and it isn't me, okay? I know because he told me." 

The smirk fell from Hop's face. "He told you that? When? Where? What did he say?" 

"It doesn't matter," she said, turning away from him. 

"Come on, Gloria. There's no way he likes someone else- trust me, I know for sure." 

Hop placed a hand on her shoulder. It was meant to be a comforting gesture, but it only served to enrage the storm churning in her gut. Nausea rose up her throat, she tasted bile. Her heart, having fallen into her stomach, pounding heavily with slow, rhythmic panic. 

"Don't-" she swatted his hand away, "-don't say that. He doesn't like me, okay? And I don't want him to. I don't want anyone to." 

Something squeezed tight in her chest. Crushing. Heavy. It sucked all the air from her lungs, made it impossible to breathe. 

_I don't want that,_ she thought, clamping her eyes shut as a wave of pain, of grief, crashed over her. _I don't want love._

Love hurt. It brought suffering and heartache. It destroyed, leaving nothing but pain in its wake and scars that never heal. She'd seen what it had done to her mother, felt an echo of it herself. A monster wearing the guise of hopes and dreams.

Gloria breathed out shakily, opening her eyes. She felt cold. 

"I thought you liked him," Hop said slowly.

Her heart thumped. "I don't," she said. "Not like that." 

The weight in her voice struck a chord with Hop. His expression fell, and he looked away from her as realisation filled his eyes. 

"You still don't want anything to do with love?" he asked. "Even after all this time? Even with Bede?" 

A sliver of ice dug into her heart. "What does Bede have to do with that?" 

"I thought… with him, it might be different for you," Hop said. "That you might stop denying yourself happiness if it was Bede." 

Gloria stood abruptly. Clinched her hands at her sides, affronted by Hop's suggestion. She turned to him, stared him down. 

"I'm not denying myself anything. I'm protecting myself. From pain, from grief, from the kind of hurt you've never experienced," she said, her voice a whisper, a hiss in the silence. "I don't need love to be happy." 

She stalked from the lab, leaving Hop and his questions, his naive hope, behind. 

* * *

The next day, Gloria stood in her bedroom and tried to quell the nerves building in her chest. After her conversation with Hop, after she'd stormed out on him, the things he'd said kept returning to her mind. The way he'd gloated about it being Gloria's first date with Bede. The way he'd brushed aside her determination not to fall in love, as though her promise was paper thin, the flimsy words of a child, as though he knew better. 

He knew nothing. Nothing of pain, of heartache, of grief. He didn't know what it was like to have a third of his family taken in an instant, to have his word turned upside down in a split second. Hop didn't know what it was like to be the only one left for his grieving mother to hold onto. 

Gloria was all her mother had left. She grit her teeth, forced away the pain. Hop didn't understand, but that didn't mean he didn't care. His words had come from a place of kindness. He hadn't meant the damage he'd caused, she'd seen the hurt reflected in his eyes when she'd stormed out, the regret he'd been unable to voice. She hadn't given him a chance to. 

In a way, in the deepest recess of her heart, Gloria feared that Hop was right. There was some truth to his words- something had shifted inside her when it came to Bede. Her guard slipped. She found herself wanting to be with him more, to know him more. The space he occupied inside her mind had grown to proportions she hadn't imagined possible, and he took over her thoughts when she least expected it. The slightest of things reminded her of him. The scent of tea, cookbooks in store windows, Great Balls in the hands of young trainers. 

And there in her wardrobe hung the beautiful dress she'd bought for the Gala. Hidden in it's black protective sleeve, the floor-length dress was beautiful with a delicate lace bodice and flowing chiffon skirt. It was gorgeous - and expensive, she'd winced at the price tag when she'd glanced at it - but she'd been drawn to it for more than it's design alone. 

She knew why, now- for the dress was a stunning, deep violet. A colour that had quickly become her favourite for reasons she refused to ponder. Gloria refused to look at it. Refused to think about it or what others would assume when they saw it. Would anyone else - journalists, sponsors, her friends - make the connection? 

Would Bede? 

Gloria clenched her jaw harder until it ached. There was no connection, no deeper meaning, to her choice of dress. It was a coincidence, nothing more. She shook off that thought as a needle of fear stabbed through her chest. Her hands trembled for a moment. She took a deep breath and collected the shoes she'd laid out by her bed the night before- barely a few inches high, the silver heels still daunted her- and stuffed them unceremoniously into her bag. She didn't have time for this. She had an appointment, a date as Bede had said, to attend. 

_No, it's not a date,_ Gloria reminded herself. _He was just teasing you, like he always does._

A tiny part of her ached, knowing she was right. She quashed it before it could surface any further, driving it hard into the pit of her stomach like it was a revolting bug to crush beneath her heel. Stamp it out, grind it into dust. 

Let nothing of it remain. 

* * *

The backstage of Ballonlea's Gym had transformed into a place of wonders. Costumes hung from racks, fantastical dresses and robes fit for kings strung up like garments in a store. Props sat atop boxes, shiny swords with ornate hilts next to thick books bound in leather, and Gloria might have believed she'd been transported to another time if it wasn't for the bluetooth speakers filling the room with an orchestral piece and the Rotom phones in the hands of actors on break. She stopped by the door to stare at painted murals slanted against the wall. They depicted different scenes, each exquisitely detailed, from the interiors of a castle to palace gardens. 

Gobsmacked by the sight before her, Gloria remembered that the Ballonlea theatre was as highly regarded as the Gym. She'd never been backstage inbetween League Challenges, and as a result had never witnessed the inner workings of the theatre as they put together their plays. Actors were strewn throughout the large backstage area and into practice rooms on either side of the hall, memorising scripts, repeating lines and rehearsing scenes. Some were even in costume, clashing practice swords in a mock battle. As her eyes skipped from actor to actor, she saw someone turn in her direction. Her heart caught. 

Bede. He stood tall, his lean figure accentuated by the form-fitting pants - or were they leggings? - that he wore, and he walked over to Gloria with subtle grace. She swallowed thickly and stopped her mouth from falling open as he drew closer. Her heart raced, she suddenly felt on edge. As if all eyes had turned on her, as if her nervous tells were obvious to the world, to Bede. He was dressed for theatre practice, wearing dark leggings and a thin turtleneck shirt, and Gloria chewed the inside of her cheek, cursing how attractive he managed to be in every situation. Coils of heat made their home on her cheeks when he stepped up to her. With a toss of his platinum blond curls, his lips pulled into a faint smile. 

_It's a date,_ those words echoed in her head again. She shot them down quickly. _It's just a phrase. He didn't mean anything by it._

"You're three minutes late," Bede said, tilting his head in amusement as he gazed down at her. "No matter. I'll work you harder in order to make up for it." 

Gloria flushed. "Three minutes is barely late," she said. "Besides, I arrived in Ballonlea _before_ nine." 

His eyes twinkled with mirth. Violet. That soft colour striking her speechless. 

"And yet, our agreed meeting time was nine, and you somehow missed it," Bede said. He smirked, turning on his heels and motioning for her to follow. "This way. I've reserved a room for us." 

Gloria bit back her retort and skipped to follow Bede away from the bustle and commotion of the backstage crowd. He led her down the hall to a secluded room that had mirrors lining the back wall from floor to ceiling. There were speakers plugged in by a corner, a drink bottle beside them, and Bede walked over to it and set his phone on top. 

"Put your bag down off to the side so it won't get in the way," Bede said. He busied himself with the speakers and his phone for a few seconds before standing. "Did you bring your heels like I asked?" 

He turned to look at her, and she realised she hadn't moved an inch since she'd stepped into the room. 

"Yes, of course!" Gloria said, startling and shucking off her bag. 

She shoved her backpack into the corner of the room as she flushed. She'd been too busy watching Bede, too busy following his graceful movements with her eyes, too enraptured by how lean and fit he looked when he'd squatted by the speakers with ease. The leggings he wore were practical, giving Bede's legs a range of movement that other clothes would've restricted, but the sleek black fabric was form-fitting and accentuated the shape of his thighs and the curve of his backside that she wouldn't have noticed otherwise. 

_Arceus, Gloria!_ she chided herself as her heart lurched into her throat. She flushed with heat, nerves fluttering in her lungs. _Get a hold of yourself! He's your friend, don't gawk at him like that._

It didn't matter how attractive Bede was, it wasn't right for her to ogle at him like a rabid, obsessed fan. It was shameful. She bit down a pang of disgust at herself and pulled her silver heels from her bag. 

Bede nodded appreciatively at them. "Good. Leave them there for now, I'll have you practice with them later," he said. "First, let's run through the basics." 

_'The basics,'_ according to Bede, started with her jogging a few laps of the room and stretching in order to warm up. He then had her go through the steps facing the mirrors, following the movements Bede made as he ran through them beside her. She stepped when he did, quickly getting over her apprehension and the embarrassment of holding her arms up as though she were dancing with an invisible partner. Slow music trickled from the speakers and filled the room, Gloria's shoes clacking against the floor to the gentle rhythm. Bede's steps were silent and enviously more graceful than hers, but with him going through the same movements, she felt at ease. He called out each step before they took it, carefully watching her to make sure she got it right. Occasionally, their eyes met in the mirror. Bede gave her nods of approval or the hint of a smile. Always, his gaze held more than he let show in his expression, and it sparked something ablaze in Gloria's chest. She cut her attention away, catching herself before she stumbled or missed a step.

She hadn't yet fallen on her face in front of Bede and was determined to keep it that way. Despite how distracting he was. 

Soon enough, to the appreciation of Gloria's aching arms, Bede called for a break. She dropped her arms to her sides with a heavy sigh. 

"People actually do this for fun?" Gloria huffed as she stalked over to her bag to retrieve her water bottle. She drank greedily, uncaring of the droplets cascading down her chin to slide beneath the front of her top. The water was cool and refreshing, and she would've tipped a bit more down her front if Bede wasn't with her. 

He turned away from her stiffly and coughed into his hand. "Dancing at functions is an important Galarian tradition," Bede said. For a moment, it sounded like his voice was slightly strained. He drank from his water bottle, and when he spoke again, his voice was clearer. "These steps haven't changed for hundreds of years, and remain a constant fixture at events such as the League Gala. It's imperative that you learn, as being able to dance expertly is a symbol of status." 

Right. Because Gloria cared about _status_. She stopped herself from rolling her eyes. She was more worried about making a fool of herself in front of all the people, the sponsors, the media, her friends, that would be at the Gala. Status, reputation, when she wasn't in the spotlight, it didn't matter to her. 

"When did you learn how to dance?" Gloria asked, splashing some water on her face. 

Bede's expression hardened for a split second, long enough for her to catch the twitch of his brow, the stiffening of his jaw, and the shadows that flickered behind his eyes. The darkness that overcame his face was gone in an instant. Had Gloria blinked, she would have missed it entirely. 

"Years ago," Bede said, "as per Oleana's instructions, I had the steps drilled into me so that if such a time came where I would accompany the Chairman to functions, I wouldn't make a fool of myself and tarnish his image." 

Of course. Gloria's heart sank. She should have known, shouldn't have asked. Prying into Bede's past, despite how much she longed to know more about him, hardly ever went well. The pain in his eyes was one she'd felt herself- the pain of dredging up old wounds. Even now, fragmented as it was, pieces of Rose's hold over Bede remained. Memories slowly faded like scars, never truly disappearing.

"Turns out, he needn't have worried about me ruining his image- he managed that well enough himself," Bede said, his expression lifting. "Besides, now I'm skilled enough to dance at functions that require my attendance as a Gym Leader. Skilled enough to teach the Champion how to dance herself." 

He turned to her as he said that last part, and the pride in his eyes, the satisfaction in his smile, eased a weight off Gloria's heart. She found herself smiling back at him. 

"Guess I should be thanking Rose for his foresight," she said. 

Bede scoffed. "Hardly." 

Gloria stepped over to him. She was drawn to Bede's side by a firm tug on her heart, by the tender warmth pooling through her chest, and she smiled brighter. 

"I'll settle for thanking you instead," Gloria said. 

"As you should." He nodded, and walked back towards the wall of mirrors. "It's time you learn how to dance with a partner," Bede said. 

He turned on his heels to face her, waiting in the centre of the room, and held his left hand out, palm up, with his right held behind his back. He eyed Gloria intently, and her heart skipped. She knew this would happen eventually, that she'd have to practice with Bede as her partner, but the sight of him there, waiting for her to approach, sent nerves skittering through her chest. She breathed in a deep, silent breath, and stepped up to him. Slowly, she placed her hand in his. 

And he closed the distance between them. In a split second, his arm was around her. His chest was right in front of her face. She let out an undignified speak at the touch of his hand low on her back, jolting at the sensation. 

"Ah, sorry," Bede said, dropping his hand from her back. "I didn't mean to startle you." 

Gloria straightened, blushing at the embarrassing sound that had slipped from her lips. She shook her head hurriedly and peeked up at him. An echo of his touch lingered on her skin, the slightest pressure on the small of her back that tingled with warmth. 

"That's- that's okay," she said. Her voice was strained. Tight. "I-I didn't realise we'd have to stand this close to dance." 

It was difficult to speak with her face flooded with heat. Her eyes were at the level of his collarbones, and she could make out the threads of his turtleneck shirt at this distance. She took short, shallow breaths. They were so close, she was afraid to breathe too deeply lest her chest brush against his. 

"You don't seem to mind getting closer than this to me when we hug," Bede said, quirking an eyebrow at her in amusement. 

"That's different!" Gloria said. 

Why was it different? Her protest didn't make sense. She stared straight at his chest, unable to lift her gaze to meet his eyes. Her heart thundered at a dizzying pace, and she was grateful for the music playing from the speakers- the pounding of her heart was deafening in her ears, she worried that Bede would be able to hear it in the silence.

"Well, you'll have to get used to this if you want to learn how to dance properly," Bede said. "I'll take it slow for you, alright?" 

His hand returned to the small of her back, and she sucked in a gasp at his touch. 

"Don't tell me, you're ticklish here?" he asked, gently sweeping his fingers over the spot. 

A tingle shot down Gloria's spine. She jumped back, stifling a yelp in her throat. 

"D-Don't do that!" she squeaked. She rubbed her back where he'd teased her, trying to remove the sensation of his touch. 

Bede lifted a hand to his lips, covering up his smirk and his quiet breath of laughter. Gloria scowled at him, pouting. It wasn't fair that he could play her so easily like this. She wasn't ticklish on her back- not at all, but the touch of his fingers had sparked something across her skin, something that left her confused and indignant. 

"My bad," Bede said. His voice was light with mirth, eyes twinkling at her. "I won't do that again." 

Gloria narrowed her eyes slightly, pressing her lips together firmly as she watched him. He'd enjoyed her reaction so much, she wasn't sure she trusted him not to try that again. Bede's expression softened when she didn't budge, and he held out his hand with an apologetic smile. 

"I promise," he said, and Gloria gave in. 

How could she not, when he was looking at her like that? She stepped up to him and took his hand, holding her breath to steady herself when he set his right hand low on her back again. 

"Place your hand on my shoulder," Bede said, directing her free hand so that it was resting lightly on his shoulder. 

Gloria nodded, still staring at his chest. 

"You realise your dance partner might take offense if you stare at their chest the whole time, right?" Bede said. "At the very least, you should try and meet their eyes." 

"Sorry," Gloria said, and forced herself to look up. Her heart thumped heavily in her chest when their eyes met, and a renewed rush of warmth swept across her face. She fought the desire to look away. 

The corner of Bede's mouth twitched with the hint of a smile as he nodded. "Good. Next, try not to look like a stunned Magikarp, and I'm sure you'll do fine."

Gloria balked at him. "A stunned Magikarp?!"

"There. That's much better," he said with a smirk. "You'll dance a lot finer if you just be yourself." 

She blinked for a moment, realising what he'd done. Her heart still raced, she still felt flushed with heat, but no longer was her body stiff with nervous energy. Gloria could look Bede in the eyes without wishing to flee. He'd eased that all away with a simple jest. 

"You're horrible," she said, shaking her head. She managed to smile, her voice soft with amusement. 

"Ah, but you're the one who came to me for lessons," Bede said. "Surely you knew what you were getting into."

With that, he pulled her into the first steps of their dance. The time they'd spent practicing earlier came back to her after she stumbled for the first few seconds, almost kicking Bede's shin at one point, and before long, they were dancing smoothly in time to the music. Gloria repressed the urge to look at her feet, and instead found herself meeting Bede's smile with her own. A flicker of pride showed in his eyes. Pride, satisfaction, and something more that she couldn't place. With each step, her confidence grew. She relaxed further, following Bede through the motions of the dance as it came easier and easier for her. A smile broke across her face whenever their eyes met, a bubble of something sweet and tender blooming in her chest. 

Dancing, as foreign as it had been when they'd first begun, soon felt natural. It felt natural to sway and step with Bede like this. To be so close, to share smiles and breaths of laughter. It was obvious to Gloria now why people danced, why it was a cemented Galarian tradition, for she felt so light, so carefree, she wouldn't have minded if the dance lasted forever. 

Bede slowed, and Gloria came to an abrupt halt, stopping herself in time so she didn't continue and step right into him. She blinked as Bede dropped his hand from her back. 

"You got the hang of it rather quickly," he said, releasing her hand. "Next, you need to be able to master the steps in your heels." 

Oh. Gloria blanched, glancing to where her heels sat next to her bag. 

"Have you worn them in yet?" Bede asked. 

Gloria twisted her lips and trudged over to her shoes. "Not exactly…" 

"Not exactly?" Bede echoed. Gloria suppressed a pout at the disapproval in his voice. "Have you worn them at all?" 

She sat on the floor by her heels, pointedly focusing on taking her shoes off so she didn't have to suffer under the unimpressed look Bede was giving her. 

"I tried them on in the store," Gloria said, her protest dying beneath her breath. She slid her feet into the sparkly silver heels, weaving the thin straps through the clasps. 

Bede sighed. "You really should be wearing them for a couple of minutes every day, in order to loosen them up and get yourself used to them," he said. "It won't matter how well you can dance in your regular shoes if you stumble in heels at the Gala." 

Gloria pursed her lips and stood. He was right, annoyingly so as always, but that didn't stop her from grumbling wordlessly at him as she found her balance. Bede raised an eyebrow at her, watching the way she stood with her legs stiff and taut. 

"Walk the length of the room," he said. 

She frowned for a moment before complying and walking towards the mirrors. Bede studied her as she passed him. Each step she took felt awkward, as though she were walking on stilts instead of heels a few inches high. The clack of her shoes made her even more self-conscious, and she wanted to shrink away at the noise. 

"Stop." 

Gloria froze. With a sigh, Bede stepped up beside her, their eyes meeting in the mirror. 

"This is exactly why you need to practice walking in heels," he said. "You're walking like a baby Ponyta taking its first steps, not like the Champion of Galar." 

Gloria pressed her lips firmly together. "Hey, it's harder than it looks! You're lucky you don't have to wear shoes like this- I'm terrified I'm going to roll my ankles if I'm not careful!" 

"If walking in heels is as difficult as you make it out to be, no one would be wearing them," Bede said. He gave her an unimpressed look at her complaints. 

"You're saying that because you've never worn high heels before," Gloria said with a huff. "I'd like to see you trot around in these without an issue." 

She met his gaze in the mirror with defiance. Bede looked as though he was about to bark back at her, his brow furrowing slightly, eyes narrowing, but then he sighed and turned on his heels. 

"Fine," Bede said, stalking towards the door. "Stay here. I'll be right back." 

Gloria blinked at him, stunned into silence, and he whisked through the door and clicked it shut behind him. She stood there, confused, and shifted awkwardly on her feet. She definitely needed to get used to her heels. Barely five minutes into wearing them and she already wanted to kick them off. The looming Gala and the hours she'd have to spend on her feet seemed more daunting than ever before, and she hadn't even attempted to dance in her heels yet. She faced the mirror and practiced a few steps of the dance. Her movements were stiff, ankles wobbling as she tried to balance on her heels. She jumped when the door swung open. She whirled in shock, mouth dropping open, as Bede cut across the room towards her wearing a pair of sleek black high heels that looked straight out of Nessa's wardrobe. He walked with confidence, with his head held high, his steps smooth and graceful despite the pencil-thin heels that were taller than Gloria's. 

Bede deposited his regular shoes by the wall, before stepping over to Gloria with a smirk. 

"What were you saying?" Bede said, "I've never worn heels before?" 

Gloria gaped wordlessly, fumbling to find something, anything, to say. "You- How? When? Why?" She gestured wildly at him, at his high heels, and shook her head in disbelief. "Since when do you wear heels?!" 

"Not of my own accord, I assure you," Bede said. He lifted an eyebrow at her, as though slightly put off by her shock. "Some of our plays require historically accurate attire, heels being a part of that. These are not mine, I simply borrowed them from an actress that has a shoe size close enough to mine." 

"Right." Gloria nodded, trying to wrap her head around this. "I just… never expected you to actually… wear shoes like that. Willingly, at least." 

"It will be easier to show you how to walk naturally in high heels if I demonstrate myself," Bede said, nonplussed. He turned towards the mirror, gesturing for her to do the same. "In order not to walk like a stilted Girafarig, you need to step toe-to-heel, rather than heel-to-toe." 

Bede swept his leg forward, touching the front of his shoes to the ground as he said, the heel coming into contact with the floor a split second later. 

"Don't exaggerate the movement," he continued, "the heel should hit right after, if not with, the front part of your shoe as you walk. Like so." 

He turned and walked parallel to the mirrors, giving Gloria a side-on view of his gait. 

"The length of your steps will naturally be reduced in heels. Compensate by taking small, but faster, steps than usual, in order to maintain a normal pace." 

Bede reached the end of the mirrors and spun on his feet to face the opposite direction as deftly as a ballerina. He continued his walk, returning the way he'd come. 

"You'll have a natural inclination to lean forward if you try to walk faster than your heels will allow, so lean back slightly to compensate," he said. "A sloppy posture will destroy your efforts to fit in, and put all the training I've given you to waste. Above all, do not slouch." 

Gloria bit back a smile. "It sounds like you're trying to teach me etiquette," she said with the hint of a laugh. 

He raised an eyebrow at her as he passed. "Am I not?" 

"Maybe." 

A bubble of amusement, of enjoyment, built in her chest. She clasped her hands behind her back as she watched Bede walk to the end of the mirrors again, the trepidation inside her having lifted. He turned around to face her, and she knew it was time for her to practice. 

"Right. Now that you've seen what it should look like, I'll have you walk the length of these mirrors like I did," Bede said, and stepped over to her. 

"Okay. I can do that," Gloria said, nodding to herself in order to cement a thread of confidence inside her. She turned side-on to the mirrors, and absently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ears as Bede's attention fixed on her. A different wave of nerves flooded her chest, and she straightened instinctively beneath his gaze. 

She took a deep breath, flexed her fingers at her sides, and stared at a single spot on the wall in front of her. 

_Pretend he's not watching you,_ she told herself. _Just ignore him completely._

The thumping of her heart refused to slow. There was something about having Bede focus on her so intently that made her stomach flutter as though she'd swallowed a swarm of Combee. She warmed from the inside out, and struggled to recall his advice as she went to step forward. 

_What is wrong with me today? It's just Bede. Nothing's happened, nothing's changed._ Gloria puzzled over her thoughts as she walked along the wall of mirrors. One foot in front of the other, toe first as Bede had advised her, she tried to ignore the feeling of his eyes on her. She kept thinking back to their phone call. To the phrase Bede had used. 

_This isn't a date,_ she reminded herself as she reached the wall and turned to walk back the other way. She stiffened when her eyes fell on Bede. He had a hand cupped over his mouth, watching her with a deep, thoughtful expression. His ardent concentration made her heart flop. She wobbled on her heels, and his eyes flicked up to her face with a beat of concern before she broke into a fast-paced walk to get past him as quickly as she could. 

"Not bad, I suppose," Bede said. He turned to face her as she passed him. "Practice walking like this in front of a mirror every day until the Gala, and you should be fine." 

Gloria slumped with a sigh of relief. 

"Make sure you don't do that at the Gala," Bede said, muffling his laugh behind his hand. 

She pouted at him, but it was sweet to hear him laugh, however brief it was. His violet eyes softened with his smile, and it made her heart soften in response. She loved having him be so genuine with her, comfortable enough to smile and laugh without a care. Comfortable enough to wear heels fit for a model to prove a point. 

"So, are we going to practice dancing with you in those heels, or-" Gloria cut herself off when Bede turned and marched towards his shoes by the wall. She was still suppressing her laughter when he walked back to her wearing his regular shoes. 

"There's no point in having me practice dancing in heels," Bede said. "I have no desire to wear those unless strictly needed." 

"Aw, but you look so graceful in them," Gloria teased. She blinked up at him coyly, taking his hand when he held it out for her. 

Bede huffed, rolling his eyes. "Of course I do. I wouldn't be seen dead in them otherwise- too many people view men in heels as a comedy act, something to ridicule. I refuse to fumble about for anyone's entertainment, which means I can't settle for less than perfection in my gait. They can hardly laugh at me when I'm as skilled as - if not more than - any woman in heels." 

Gloria blinked at Bede as he set his hand on her back, drawing her closer as they began to dance. 

"I didn't think about it that way," she said, surprised. "I guess a lot of people would see a guy wearing heels as some sort of joke." 

"Exactly." 

They fell back into the rhythm of their dance, one step following another, and Gloria quickly realised something was different. She was taller in heels, which meant she was no longer staring at Bede's collarbones but rather at the level of his shoulders. She was closer to his face, closer to him, now. The fluttering returned to her lungs. Strangely giddy, strangely warm, as though a simple change in height had shifted something inside her. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling- if anything, she wanted to bask in it. It was like a weird combination of delight and anxiety, swirling together in her stomach and flooding her veins. She was enjoying the moment, yet dreading it at the same time. With Bede, she felt comfortable. Light. Happy. And strange. Gloria glanced at his eyes, but quickly looked away before he noticed. 

_Why am I being so weird about this?_ she thought as she tried to swallow down the bundle of nerves building inside her. _This is all Hop's fault for suggesting those things yesterday. For saying that Bede had a crush on me, that I had a crush on-_

Gloria stopped. Her heart stopped. 

_No._

"Gloria?" 

She shot away from him like she'd been zapped. Cold. She felt cold. Cold and numb and- 

Bede was looking at her in concern.

"I-I just need a drink," Gloria said, whirling on her feet. Panic rose up her throat. Choking. Tight. The edges of her vision went dark. She stumbled over to her bag and snatched her water bottle off the floor, unscrewing the lid with trembling hands. 

_No._

She drank quickly. Drank too much, forced the water past the lump in her throat. 

_This isn't-_

She couldn't breathe. There wasn't enough air in the room. Her heartbeat deafened her thoughts, pounding in her ears with creeping dread. Darkness fell over her mind. Gloria turned away from her bag, her stomach lurching as her eyes drew towards Bede. He stood still, stretching out his arms. Tall and elegant. Handsome yet beautiful, with a model's poise, as graceful as a prince. He was kind. Forgiving, understanding. He never pushed her harder than she could take, but made her want to strive to be something more. He was her friend. Her rival. She loved his smile, his determination. His wit. She loved that she could be herself around him. She loved his company, his rare but sweet laughter. Everything about him. Gloria loved-

Bede looked to her with a start. Water sloshed over her feet. Her bottle lay on the floor, water trickling out, having slipped from her hands. 

_No._

Her heart pounded. Concern worried his brow, he stepped towards her. 

"Gloria? What's wrong?" 

She stepped back into her bag. Panic as cold as ice shot through her veins. 

_No-_

She couldn't move. Bede came closer, worried. Saying something she couldn't hear.

_Don't come over here!_

Panic seized her. Gloria grabbed her bag, shoving her discarded shoes into it. Her heart boomed between her ears like an earth-shaking drum. 

"I-" she choked on her words. "I need to go-" 

Bede frowned with concern. She wanted to vomit. To scream. To cry. To protest-

To flee. 

Gloria ran. Out the way she'd come, the backstage a blur of colours, of people, of costume racks she almost crashed into. She bolted, tripping on her heels. She stumbled. Lurched forward, caught herself before she could hit the ground. Her lungs burned. Her throat burned. 

Tears burned in her eyes. 

She shot out of the Gym, throwing a Pokeball to the ground in front of her. She leapt onto her Corviknight's back before the surge of light had faded, and called for her Pokemon to fly, to go, to get her away from here. 

Away from the one calling her name.

She didn't look back. She couldn't. Gloria buried her face in Corviknight's steel feathers as they took to the sky, and she shut everything out. She felt nothing, thought of nothing, until they landed in Wedgehurst. 

Gloria stumbled off the back of her Corviknight and hit the ground hard. Her legs drove her forward. Through the pain, the fear, the panic, through the front doors of the Pokemon laboratory. She shoved them open with force, and they swung open to crash against the wall. She didn't care. Couldn't care. Hop saw her. 

And Gloria crumbled. She fell to the floor, legs buckling beneath her, and the look on her face was enough for Hop to know something was wrong. He was in front of her in an instant. 

"Glo, what happened?!" Hop asked, reaching for her. 

It was too much. Gloria collapsed into him with a broken wail. Everything she'd held back broke forth all at once, and she shattered. She screamed. She clung to him with desperation, nails clawing into his lab coat, face pressed to his shoulder. Hop wrapped his arms around her. 

"It's okay, it's okay," Hop said, repeating those words again and again. "I'm here. you're alright, you're okay." 

It hurt. Her lungs, her throat, her heart. She was in pieces. Fractured. Broken. All she felt was pain. 

Guilt. 

Gloria's sobs tore from her throat like daggers of ice. Her scream rose from her chest like bloodied thorns, tearing her skin, her lungs, leaving her bleeding. Raw. It ached. 

There was nothing left of her. 

She couldn't hear Hop's whispers, couldn't feel his touch. Amidst her sobs were broken words. 

"I don't-" 

Gloria clung to Hop. Tighter, firmer, muffling her words into his coat. 

"I don't want this-" 

_Why-_

It hurt. 

_Why did this happen?_

Hop held her tighter in return. "Oh, Gloria…" Understanding in his voice. 

He knew. 

"I don't want this…!" She shook her head, again and again, against his shoulder. Into his lab coat, smearing her tears across the stainless white. "I don't want this…!" 

"I know," Hop said softly. Quietly. A gentle recognition that only she could hear. "I know…" 

It was too late. Her guard had slipped, her walls had lowered too far. She'd thought she was safe. 

She was a fool. Her heart, fractured and broken, lay in pieces in her hands. A million shattered pieces. She'd fallen from the precipice she'd danced around for so long, stepped too close to the edge one too many times, and this was the result. Her fate. Her punishment. 

No, she'd slipped from that edge long ago, only realising when she'd hit the bottom. 

Hop had been right all along. 

Gloria was in love with Bede. 


End file.
